Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ Kashmir ❯ 2: Beast Within ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

2: Beast Within - In This Moment

Eight months had passed since she had seen the Winchesters. She caught herself wondering about them from time to time, but never dared express her interests to her family. Only there to observe. Don't interfere… yada, yada, yada. Whatever.

Now, here she was, working a job in the heart of New Orleans, Louisiana. A Rougaroux hunt to be exact. With the rise in gang-related murders, the particular viciousness of the attacks had gone unnoticed to all, even the authorities.

The hunt had gone well enough. She had found the Rougaroux holed up in an abandoned house in the lower ninth ward. The kill was quick, just how she liked it. Get in, exterminate, and get out.

This was one of the things she didn't understand about other hunters that didn't have the connections like her family. For others, there was research, interviews, fake id's… the list went on. But for her, there were no complications, just intel from her family. She was simply sent in for the kill. She supposed that the leg work probably made the hunt more rewarding, but she wouldn't over think it. Just do your job.

She didn't have another assignment lined up, so she decided a little down time was just what she needed to get her head back in the game. After dropping off her SUV and quickly changing clothes at her hotel on Canal, she was heading back deeper into the Quarter to one of her favorite bars. It was a hole in the wall on a small side street off Bourbon. It was never very crowded, served decent local beer and played metal. Just what she needed to let off some steam.

She turned down the narrow alley to make her way to the hidden entrance. After flashing her I.D. at the doorman, she made her way to the bar and ordered a beer. Dead Guy, her favorite. The room was bathed in a red light. Heavy metal pulsed throughout, sending a vibration through her veins. There was something about this darkness that spoke to her. Maybe it was the life of a hunter, or possibly her alienation from the outside world. She didn't care which. All she knew was that she was comfortable in this atmosphere, and that didn't bother her one bit.

As the night drug on, she made small talk with her bartender and drank her beers alone. She heard the heavy wooden door just behind her open and close, but she never looked up. She turned to her left to reach into her small bag to pull out her cigarettes when a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Whiskey, double. Neat”

“Beer”

She paused a moment, hand pulling her pack from her bag. Still with her back turned, she placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it, steeling herself before turning around back to her beer. She chose to ignore them. Hell, what would she even say. Hey guys! How's the whole demon thing going? Slaughtered any innocents lately? Yea, that will go over like a ton of bricks. Her train of thought came to a screeching halt when that familiar voice addressed her.

“Kat?”

She couldn't help the way her head snatched to the right at his voice. It was the same, but somehow different. When she had originally met the demonic version, he was cocky and loud. So sure of himself. Now, this voice was quiet, almost apologetic.

She let a small smile grace her lips as she faced the brothers. She was actually happy to see them.

“Hi Dean… Sam. What brings you boys all the way down here?”

Dean froze. He didn't know what to say. Hell, he didn't even mean to say her name out loud. The shock of seeing her, sitting casually at a bar alone, sent his head spinning. He remembered everything about their first encounter. Even the baser thoughts his demon-self had about her. And, for once, he found himself agreeing with the monster. She looked just like he remembered. Long ash blonde hair hanging, unkempt, around her shoulders. The warm, humid climate of the deep south obviously forced her into less clothing. She wore a light gray tank-top and skinny jeans that hugged her legs tightly as they swung from her barstool. On her feet, a simple pair of gray Converse.

The way his emerald eyes stared her down, she knew he was keeping himself from saying something. Sam answered first, and her disappointment surprised her.

“Well, we were tracking a Rougaroux, but when we finally found him, he had already been taken care of. I'm guessing this was you?”

She laughed lightly, nodding in confirmation, and tipped the neck of her beer in their direction, motioning for them to take a seat next to her. She sat her beer on the bar and flicked her cigarette before speaking.

“Sorry boys. I guess the score is one to zip in my favor.”

Sam laughed and took the seat to her left. Dean, still silent, took the seat to her right. The punishing beat of the music relaxed her, and the alcohol in her veins gave her the courage she need to ask her next question.

“So, last time I saw you two, things were… complicated. How are you?”

The question was posed more to Dean than Sam. At this, Dean gave her a slight smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes, and nodded his head.

“No more black eyes if that's what you're askin'.”

She beamed at the brothers and clapped both of them on the shoulder.

“Well this is a cause for celebration! Drinks on me tonight boys.”

She flagged down the bartender and had him line a series of questionable shots for the three of them. After passing their glasses to them, she looked at the boys expectantly.

“To what semblance of normalcy we can have in this life.”

The brothers nodded and the three of them downed the burning liquid.

Before she knew it, it was almost midnight. Sam was beyond inebriated, while she and Dean held their own. Sam stood, swaying a little, and regarded the other two hunters with a sloppy grin.

“Gonna go find my way to my bed. You stayin' a while Dean?”

When Dean nodded in confirmation, she released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. For them, the night was still young. As Sam said his goodbyes, promising his brother he would get a cab, she stood and hugged the taller brother tightly.

“Call me if you need anything Sam.”

He nodded and headed out the door. She sat back down next to the remaining Winchester and took the last sip of her beer. After ordering another, she regarded Dean. While he had gradually become more talkative as time passed, her spidey-senses were telling her that there was something he wanted to get off his chest. While the alcohol had helped him loosen up a little, she wanted him to relax and spill what was bothering him.

As the opening chords and haunting vocals of a familiar song filled her ears, she had one of her brilliant ideas and stood suddenly. Dean eyed her suspiciously when she grabbed her beer and his hand, pulling him off his stool and towards the back of the bar. He couldn't figure out where exactly they were heading. All that was ahead of them was a wall-length bookcase. Oh. They rounded the corner at the end of the case to climb a hidden flight of stairs, closer to the pounding music.

Endorphins start to swell now

As I step up to my throne

I feel the monster caged inside of me

Screaming through my bones

I wanna see you start to sweat now

I wanna see you lose your minds

I wanna feel you all from deep within

Swayin' back and forth all night

It was taking his mind a moment to catch up to the new surroundings. She had brought him to a nearly deserted upper floor where the music was the most concentrated. Dim red lights cast shadows around the small space. She took his drink from his hand and placed it, along with her beer, on a table. As she turned back to him, she reached out her hand. He took it without thinking, taking an involuntary step toward her. She pulled him to the small dance floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. As the song continued to pulse from the speakers, they danced. Her arms that were originally wrapped around his neck had slipped down, her fingers lightly gripping his biceps. His hands on her hips held her in place, close to his chest.

I'll tear you apart

I'll feed off your heart

I wanna see your bodies grinding just for me

I'm just what you need, the perfect disease

Don't you wanna turn the beauty into the beast?

As the music faded out to the next song, she pulled away from his grasp and returned to the table where they had left their drinks. He followed her numbly, processing the moment that had passed between them. It wasn't much, but it was something. He sat next to her at the small table, sipping his drink. She smiled at him, leaning towards him on her elbows so that he could hear her over the music.

“Quite the dancer, Mr. Winchester. I must say I'm a little surprised.”

And just like that, she watched a little of his wall crumble. This smile reached his eyes and he let out a small laugh at her antics.

“Full of surprises, if you know what to look for.”

There was that wink again. Unlike their first encounter, this wink didn't send a chill down her spine. This wink was fun, and full of promise. He was finally starting to loosen up, and that was a good sign.

“Look. How about we head somewhere more quiet where we can actually have a conversation.”

He was a caught off guard, but nodded in consent. Usually he was the one giving the `let's get out of here' speech.

They made their way back downstairs where she closed their tab. A moment later, they were back in the almost suffocating humidity that hung in the air. While the party was just getting started on Bourbon, she lead them deeper into the Quarter to a small pub that she knew was ideal for conversations. They passed through the front gates and walked deeper into the courtyard, finding a seat away from the few other patrons. Drinks were ordered and a heavy silence fell over them. Once the waiter brought their drinks, both took a sip, trying desperately to think of something to say to the other. Kat was the first to speak up.

“Ok… so obviously you remember the last time, when we met, but I'm curious. Do you remember everything from turning?”

He was taken by surprise once again, but he heaved a heavy sigh and nodded.

“I… Yea. I remember everythin'. I mean, it was me. Granted it was a twisted version of me, but it was me.”

She nodded, taking in all that his statement left unsaid. She took another sip of her beer as she tried to think of a way to keep the awkwardness out of the conversation.

“I'm sorry.”

She barely heard him. Her eyes searched him to make sure he had even spoken, but he wouldn't look at her directly.

“For what?”

That got his attention. His eyes snapped toward her and fixed themselves on hers. They stayed that way for a moment. Neither one backing down from the unspoken challenge. After a moment, he took another sip of his drink and continued.

“I dunno really. I guess for that being how we first met. Black eyes aren't usually how I like to meet someone.”

She laughed lightly at his attempt at humor. Apparently that was the way things were with these Winchester boys. Bury your feelings and mask your man pain with alcohol and dry humor. She could understand that. Feelings sometimes only served to get in the way and complicate things. Furthermore, she supposed that she really had no business prying into his most personal thoughts, seeing as how this was only the second time she had spoken to him, and, only the first time she had met the real him, so to speak.

With a quick nod, she pushed the thoughts from her head and decide the best course of action would be to change the subject.

“Well, without sounding too much like one of those God forsaken chick flicks, if you ever need an ear, I'm here. Now! I believe I deemed tonight a celebration, so we should celebrate!”

The smile he gave her was genuine, and she beamed right back at him. The rest of their evening, or early morning rather, was filled with jokes and laughter, and of course discussing the merits of classic rock.

By the time she checked her clock, it was nearly three thirty in the morning and she had what she would describe as a `solid buzz' going. Dean was nearly as bad as she was, and both deemed it time to turn in for the night. Instead of hailing a cab, the pair opted to walk back to the more populated part of the Quarter where their hotels were located.

They walked, arm in arm, continuing their debate on whether or not Led Zeppelin was better than Black Sabbath. By the time they were approaching her hotel, she found herself leaning more into him. She was unsure whether or not this was an effect of the alcohol or the desire to feel his body heat, despite the humidity. She decided the safer bet was the alcohol. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

As they prepared to part ways in the lobby of her hotel, she gave him a tight hug and chaste kiss on the cheek, thanking him for his company. He gave her a soft smile, his eyes holding something that the haze of alcohol wouldn't let her discern at the moment. As he pulled away from her grip, and said goodbye, a thought popped into her beer addled brain. Cellphone in hand, she accessed her contacts and dialed a number she had been given eight months before. He was pushing open the door when his phone rang. He flipped it open without looking at the screen, expecting Sam to be asking where he was.

“I'm on my way now Sammy.”

“Well that's good, but this isn't Sam.”

He stopped short and turned, staring back through the glass door of the lobby where he left her. There she was, still standing in the middle of the empty room, phone pressed to her ear with a smile on her face.

“And here I thought the gentleman was supposed to call first.”

She laughed out, half surprised that he really did remember their first interactions.

“Well, after eight months, I decided to make an exception. Wanted to be sure you had my number so that you could let me know that you got back alright. Wouldn't want you getting lost in the Quarter.”

“I might be drunk, but I'm not that drunk.'

“Yea… whatever you have to tell yourself Winchester. But really, let me know you get back.”

“Fine. Thanks again for tonight. Doesn't hurt to cut loose every once in a while.”

She smiled again and agreed. After hanging up the phone, she made her way back to her room to prepare for bed. She had just turned off her light when her phone chirped.

“Made it back.”

She rolled her eyes. Short, sweet, and to the point. She couldn't say she was surprised. She typed out a quick response and flicked the phone to silent to salvage what little sleep she was going to get.

A few blocks over, Dean was climbing into bed when his phone vibrated on the night stand. He opened the message and couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips.

“Congrats on not getting lost. Don't be a stranger Winchester.”

“Count on it. I'll see you around, so keep in touch.”

He ran a calloused hand over his face before placing his cell down and shutting off the lights. He and Sam would be getting up in a few hours to hit the road again. But, for the first time in a long time, he knew he would be getting a decent night's sleep. Whether it was from the alcohol or the company, he wouldn't let himself speculate.